


The Horror Section

by Lithiasaur



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-15 11:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lithiasaur/pseuds/Lithiasaur
Summary: A Holtzbert story revolving around a wicked ghost found haunting a library, and the games it plays. Erin and Holtzmann are forced to face their insecurities, fears, and new terrors they never imagined. Together, they must find a way to escape the Ghost's traps, and make sure this monster's reign of terror ends with them. There will probably be a lot of different stuff in this story, but I'm mostly winging it. Definitely a lot of feels, fighting, snuggles and fun ahead.





	1. Catalyst

Haunted libraries sounded a lot cooler in theory than in application, as it turned out. The idea of something haunting a place of books was romantic and exciting: the possibilities were nearly untold, considering just how many pages of stories there were to draw inspiration from in this place. In theory, a ghost could just inhabit a book and absorb its information, then conform its projected manifestation to that inspiration, taking on the form of a dragon, or a mad scientist, a romantic leading man, or a rabbit. It could literally base itself, and its attacks and plots, on any book in the place, and give the Ghostbusters a real run for their money. 

Or, as this ghost opted to do, it could just levitate books off of shelves and hurl them at the heads of the four women trying to catch it in a box. 

Jillian Holtzmann was hiding behind a fold out table she had kicked over to form a barricade, leaning back against it and listening to the thumps and bumps of different books bouncing all over the room. This was going to be a hell of a mess to clean up but, thankfully, that was not going to be their problem. They were just here to catch the ghost, not reshelve an entire library’s worth of mixed up books. The hardbacks were the ones she was doing her best to avoid, particularly the leatherbound ones. There were also very large compendiums from the reference section that had no business flying through the air, and could easily do some damage when thrown with enough force. 

Struck with a joke, after fittingly ducking under a joke book that went sailing over her head, Holtzmann turned to the woman beside her, grinning broadly before even sharing her genius thought.

“Hey, Erin! Taking a dictionary to the face sounds like something only you’d enjoy,” she said triumphantly, grinning at Erin so broadly it made the dimples on her cheeks stand out, her blue eyes all but shimmering in delight. Her companion, and Ghostbuster in arms, could only stare at her in shock and confusion, not following her line of thought and finding the joke to be poorly timed and a bit inappropriate, all things considered. 

“Stay focused, Holtzmann!” Erin Gilbert yelped, holding up her proton gun as if reminding the other woman what they were there to do. Holtz tipped her finger up from her forehead, saluting quickly and then gripping her gun as well. She peeked back over the table, spotting Abby across the room. Patty was unaccounted for at the moment, though they would have known if something hurt her. She was not exactly the kind to go down quietly. 

Erin moved to the end of the table, keeping low and peeking out from around the side. A book came flying at her head, and she snapped it back just in time to keep from getting nailed right in the nose. The ghost’s aim was improving, and the longer they goofed around, the better it was getting at anticipating them. She looked over at Holtzmann, who had taken her spot at the other end of the table, though she was smart enough not to stick her face out where it could be a target. The two made eye contact and nodded at one another, then both moved around the edge of the table to open fire with their proton guns.

Beams of energy burst from each other their guns almost at the same moment, lancing toward the ghost and encircling it like a chain. It pulled against them, tugging the beams, almost ripping the gun out of Erin’s hand. Holtzmann had a firmer grip on hers, digging her feet against the carpet of the library floor stubbornly and pulling back against the gun like on a leash with a very stubborn dog at the end. A third beam leaped forward from behind the ghost, and the two saw their forth friend, Patty Tolan, appear from behind a book shelf. 

“Abby!” Erin yelled, knowing a fourth chain would immobilize the ghost, and Abby was the one that brought the trap this time. Abby heard the call and was doing her best to move, tossing the trap out and dropping the foot trigger in front of her before drawing her proton gun. She lifted it to aim and got greeted by a young adult adventure series, seven books slamming her in the head. It was unfortunate that the special collector’s case was made of a thick wood approximation, making it look, and feel when thrown at high velocity, like a solid wooden treasure chest. 

She had enough time to look surprised by the contact, jerk violently to the side, then crumple to the floor. All three of her friends cried out in surprise, though it was Holtzmann that shut off her gun and took a run toward her. 

“Holtzmann, no!” Erin yelped, suddenly being pulled even harder by the ghost, who had more leeway to wiggle and use its powers to throw more and more books around. It was pulling hundreds of books off the nearby shelves, spinning them around it. As they collected, they interrupted the beams, some bursting into flames, others falling out of the air, but they just kept coming. The proton guns shut off, the ghost breaking the chains, encircled almost completely now by its shield of words. Erin ducked back behind her table and Patty dove behind the bookshelf, though the ghost had pulled most of the books off of it and the bare shelves offered little protection. 

Holtzmann was able to reach Abby, kneeling beside her and wincing at the blood running down the side of her head. She was breathing, though, and that was enough of a comfort for now. 

“Come on, Abby,” the nuclear engineer groaned, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her as best she could away from the immediate battle field, able to pull her behind a bookshelf. She disconnected the ghost trap, taking it for herself as quickly as she could. Seeing Abby get hurt was enough to snap her into a more serious attitude, no longer as interested in jokes and goofing around with the job at hand as she had been before. Her friends were her family: they were all she had, and she would do everything she could to protect them. 

Carrying the trap, Holtzmann ran back toward her previous cover, wanting to get to Erin so they could form a plan. The ghost responded, bursting free of its book shield, each one becoming a violent, forceful projectile. The room became engulfed in a rain of heavy, painful ammunition, books slamming into shelves and tables, through windows and, of course, into any Ghostbuster not properly shielded. Erin braced herself behind the table, books slamming into it with enough force to almost break it. Holtzmann came flying over the top of it, pelted by books and slamming down onto the ground behind the table with a groan of pain, the trap still cradled against her protectively. It had not taken any hits, at least. 

Battered, but not badly hurt, Holtzmann dragged herself toward Erin, looking up at her as the other woman protectively bent over her. 

“Are you…?”

“Fine. Abby’s hidden. We gotta trap this thing before it takes out another ‘Buster.” Holtzmann’s tone made it clear that she expected Erin to tell her what to do, and that she was determined to do it to the best of her ability. Erin considered Abby the leader of the group, though they both had forged this strange alliance through their lives together. She hesitated, finding herself unsure of what to do without Abby there with her endless confidence and optimism to reassure her. Abby believed everything could, and would, work, which really helped with their effectiveness in a battle. Erin, meanwhile, tended to have her doubts…

Which, at the moment, there really was no room for. 

Patty, across the room for the conscious duo, and not knowing where Abby was, got fed up with waiting. She stepped out from behind her bookshelf, which failed as protection anyway. She had more bruises from being hit by knowledge than she was okay with, as she rather liked reading and was not happy that something was forcing books to betray her. Plus, it hurt one of her friends and coworkers, which was absolutely unacceptable. 

“What are you guys doing?” she yelled, drawing the attention of everything in the room, including all the books hanging in the air. “Get your asses in gear and trap this damn ghost! Don’t make me come over there and do everything myself!” 

She opened fire with her proton gun, the beam breaking through a small defense of books, since the ghost had dropped its shield and had opened itself up to an attack. It was a chance they had to take, and Patty, at least, saw the window for what it was. Erin winced, an expression Holtzmann saw, but nodded and leaped to her feet. She joined Patty once more, using her proton gun to tie the ghost from the other side. It struggled, moving to break free in the same manner it had before, gathering books into the air. 

“That’s good, Patty! Hold him! Holtzmann, get the trap!” 

Holtzmann moved, throwing the trap as close to the ghost as she could, the heavy contraption slamming down with a loud clang. She did not bother hitting the button with her foot, holding on to it and punching it with her closed fist instead. The trap sprang open and, as Holtzmann used her own proton gun to provide a third chain around the ghost, it began to pull the paranormal jerk into it. The ghost put up a fight, throwing books in every direction, but the pull of the trap was too strong, and the proton beams did not break this time. The trap snapped closed and fizzled, sealing the ghost inside. All the books it had lifted in its defense fell to the ground at once, thumping down in a sudden rain. It ended as soon as it began, though, and for a moment everything sat very still. 

Erin breathed a sigh of relief, dropping her arms and letting her proton gun hang idly in her hands. Holtzmann put her gun away, over her shoulder, looking over at Erin with a nod before trotting to the ghost trap and checking it out. Patty hurried over to Abby, who was sitting up and looking around in a daze. Erin came over to join them, putting her hand on Abby’s shoulder as she got to her feet slowly. Patty was supporting her, but she seemed to be able to stand on her own. 

“Remind me to nail all the books at home to the shelves,” Abby grumbled, and Erin smiled, relieved, but shook her head.

“I think Kevin’s already done that. He didn’t like them sliding down when he pulled one from the shelf.” 

Holtzmann joined them, holding the smoking ghost trap and nodding at them proudly. 

“Good work, ladies,” she said, though her eyes came to rest on Abby. She looked concerned, at least for a moment, though her emotions were always fleeting and jumbled at the best of times. It was always hard to know exactly what she was thinking, as she was very good at hiding any real emotion behind her jokes and her erratic behavior. She much preferred being impossible to read and understand, because it kept her real feelings safe. The girls knew, however, how much she cared about them, and Abby offered her a warm, reassuring smile. She reached out and patted Holtzmann on the arm, telling her without addressing it directly that she was fine. Holtzmann patted Abby’s hand with her free one, still holding on to the trap with the other. 

“Alright,” Erin said, feeling anxious but not because of any remaining danger in the area. She looked around the all but destroyed library, though there was very little they could do about it. The ghost would probably not be amenable to putting all the books it pulled from the shelves back in their proper places. Anyway, being thrown around like cannon balls had severely compromised the integrity of a lot of the bindings. It was a shame, really, but at least the human casualties were minimal. “We should get that thing back to the firehouse. Abby, let’s get you to the hospital.” 

“It’s just a bump,” Abby protested, but Erin would not hear her, and they all knew it. Erin was the practical one, and since Abby was bleeding from the head she had very little room to bargain. The hospital was the clear choice. Patty stayed beside Abby, helping her to walk just in case, though her steps were sure and she did not even wobble when she stepped. Erin fell into step on the other side of Abby, likewise just in case, despite Abby rolling her eyes at the two of them.

Holtzmann lingered behind, looking at the ghost trap. It was rumbling angrily, though they had never experienced a ghost being able to break free of it before. Green smoke was seeping out from the very few joints. They were meant to be sealed, and looked as though they were shut cleanly, but somehow the smoke was escaping. It did not hang in the air for long, wisping around the container idly before vanishing, only for more to seep out. 

“Holtzy, come on!” Patty’s voice came back to her, though they were all the way at the entrance to the library at this point. Holtzmann snapped out of her daze and tucked the trap under her arm, jogging to catch up with the others.


	2. Disquiet

The week passed leisurely enough following the assault on the written word, with Abby healing quickly and thankfully not suffering anything worse than a bump and a couple of stitches. Holtzmann locked herself in her lab, as much as she could considering the lab was almost the entire second story of the firehouse and there were no real doors to disconnect her from the others. Her distant attitude and deep distraction were more than enough to substitute a lock and key. For the first couple of days, Erin and Patty handled any calls they got, with Abby joining in by the end of the week, though none of them could convince Holtzmann to leave the project that had somehow captured her full attention. 

“She gets like this, sometimes,” Abby explained, as the trio sat around the table, clearing away newpapers and notepads to create an eating space rather than a working one. Erin had her arms full of fast food bags, standing off to the side while Patty set down some disposable plates and cups for four people. Erin moved in to put the food down at the center of the table, and the others quickly made to grab what they were interested in first. They’d all agreed that Chinese food, after living above the Chinese restaurant for so long, was out of the question. Plus, Abby had continued to order it almost every day, even after they relocated to the fire house. 

Instead, Patty got them barbeque and salads from a nearby steakhouse. Despite the tempting aroma, one plate remained empty. 

“Has she eaten today, at all?” Erin asked, looking at the place they’d left for Holtzmann, to her left. She felt a little lonely, with Abby and Patty eating on the other side of the table. Or maybe she was just worried about her friend and coworker. 

“I haven’t seen her leave that lab for three days, at least,” Patty said, shaking her head, “I brought her some coffee this morning but the cup’s still where I left it. She might have left maybe twice, three times, to use the bathroom and grab some water, and that’s it. Not that I’ve been sitting here babysitting her…”

“Three times today,” Abby confirmed, both the fact and the idea that they were all keeping a very close eye on their team mate. And why not? They were all friends, and Holtzmann was the least equipped to take care of herself. At least, as far as any of them knew. Abby had learned the most about her, while working with her at their short lived University career. She had seen the nuclear engineer lose herself in building something more than once, and had a good idea of when it was time to start worrying about her. 

The three fell into silence, looking at their plates, then at the empty one, until all of their gazes had somehow ended up toward the lab. 

“I’m going to go see if she wants something,” Erin said, taking a deep breath before standing. It was like diving into a pool, sometimes, just doing something mildly social. She hesitated, but a nod from Abby and an impatient look from Patty steeled her nerves. Leaving the table, Erin made her way across the room, to the lab itself. 

Holtzmann had all the lights off in this part of the building. There were plenty of glowing numbers and screens, lit up displays and dials, to see by. Most of it managed to cast a green light, dimly glowing against the dark, humming machines. For a moment, Erin thought Holtzmann had actually gone home at some point, and none of them noticed. Maybe while they were out buying food. She knew they should have left one person behind to make sure things were okay, but the others had argued for having all of them there to get what they wanted. Except for the one person they were supposed to be keeping an eye on. 

There was a clatter under one of the desks, though, and Erin rounded the corner to see Holtzmann sitting under it, a strange set of goggles on her head, bent over some contraption she was tinkering with. There were bits and pieces of machinery and wires all around her, along with some tools and, sitting not too far away, an open ghost trap. It looked as though it had been gutted, and Holtzmann was refitting the pieces in one by one, as if rebuilding the entire thing from the ground up. Refining, redesigning, and improving things as she went along, Erin noticed as she got closer and was able to see a bit more. The ghost trap had a different shape, with smoother lines. It seemed smaller, too, and was probably lighter and easier to carry. 

“Holtz?” 

“I utilized some of your particle physics notes to redesign the miniature containment unit, streamlining the ejection of the containment cone, to create a vacuum in a confined radius above the muon trap, which will allow us to disengage the proton guns and let the trap pull the ghost into the unit directly. It utilizes the charge of the capture stream to essentially power itself, creating a vacuum so strong that, in theory, no ghost will be able to fight against the pull. No fight. No injuries. No hospitals. We put the ghosts in the box, and they stay there.” 

Erin watched as Holtzmann spoke, though she was not really listening to the unprompted explanation of the work. She saw the nuclear engineer in a subdued panic, as if she were hiding a potential melt down behind her science, which was not an unlikely scenario for the genius engineer. Her hands were shaking as she rattled off the details, her eyes not straying from the trap itself, though they were hard to see under the goggles she had on. Still, her head never turned toward Erin. 

“Holtz… hey,” Erin said softly, moving to kneel down next to where Holtzmann was working. She moved some of the pieces of equipment out of her way, so she could put her knees under her and sit on her feet. She was wearing a skirt, so she was trying to be demure about sitting on the floor. Holtzmann was under the desk, which Erin could not figure out a polite way to do too. So she remained just outside the desk, still within arm’s length of her friend. Gently, as if worried about startling her, Erin reached out her hand and touched Holtzmann’s leg. “Are you okay?” 

Holtzmann shuddered before moving suddenly to pull the goggles off her head. She looked at Erin, her eyes red and dark rimmed clearly enough for Erin to see, even in the darkness. The piece of trap inner workings that Holtzmann was holding was emitting a soft glow, which lit her face from below. With her head tilted down as it was now, her gaze falling back to the trap, Erin could see that she looked strained, even close to tears. The idea struck her, as she had never seen Holtzmann so much as frown before, in the scheme of things. She was so relentlessly happy, it was hard to imagine something upsetting her so badly. 

The nuclear engineer turned the piece over in her hand, before moving to reach for the trap itself. She tugged it closer, the metal scrapping on the floor, and began installing the unit into the inner frame. It was some sort of power source, maybe, though Erin was a little lost on the technical details of this work. Holtzmann sometimes seemed to live in an entirely different world to her: they were both incredibly intelligent women, but Holtzmann understood things that made Erin feel like a child learning her times tables. 

“What happened? Holtzmann, stop. Just for a second. What… what happened?” Erin caught Holtzmann’s hands, pulling them back from the trap and forcing her to stop her work. Holtzmann stared hard at Erin’s hands, her own hanging limply in her grasp now. She turned her sharp, crystal clear blue eyes toward her companion at last, looking at her directly. Erin felt a shudder move down her own spine now, her grip unconsciously tightening on Holtzmann’s hands. 

“The ghost that hurt Abby is not here.” 

“A ghost escaped? From the trap? That’s impossible, they’re completely sealed. They force the ghost into an incorporeal state: they can’t open the traps from the inside. How could it possibly have gotten out?” Erin knew she was reciting things that Holtzmann herself had told her, when she first invented the traps and designed them for practical use in their work. They had relied on these things for a while now, trapping a few ghosts without any issues. The only time one had gotten out before was, much to her chagrin, Erin’s fault for manually releasing it. “There’s no way.”

“There shouldn’t have been, no,” Holtzmann agreed, that frantic air returning to her from the first time she was speaking. She was going to try and flee into science again, Erin saw it before she opened her mouth a second time. To prevent it, Erin pulled Holtzmann’s hands gently, keeping her attention drawn to her rather than to the trap. Holtzmann watched her, looking unsure and almost nervous. “I saw it.” 

“You saw the ghost get out? Holtz, why didn’t you tell us? Did you try to catch it on your own? Where did it go?” 

The nuclear engineer was quiet for a long moment. She was not sure how she was going to explain what happened. Really, she only saw the strange gas that had been circling the unit from the moment the ghost had been captured. She ran a multitude of tests on it, but could not figure out what it was. Two days later, the gas was gone. Holtzmann checked the containment unit for readings of psychokinetic energy inside the trap and found nothing. Releasing the trap, armed with her proton pack just in case it was still inside, revealed there was no ghost within, though she was certain there had been one before. 

“I didn’t see it escape,” Holtzmann amended quietly, “I saw… smoke. Like it seeped out. It was gone, when I checked. No readings of it here. I’m sorry. If it hurts anyone again… I just thought I’d catch it, make sure it didn’t get a chance. I can do it, I’ve calculated the power needed for a one person capture: I’ve reconfigured-“

“Holtzmann,” Erin cut her off, giving her a stern, but quickly softening look, “You’re not catching it alone. If there’s another sighting, we’re all going to go. That’s what we do. We’re the Ghostbusters, together. Why would you think you needed to get it back? It was just an accident…” 

“It… it hurt Abby. Made her go to the hospital,” Holtzmann sighed, though Erin heard the pain in her voice before she cleared her throat and tried a smile. She ran her hand through her hair, which was a little more wild than normal from the goggles. “You’re right. I’ll fix up everyone’s packs. All the traps. This won’t happen again, not on my watch.” 

“Holtz, what I meant was you’re not alone-“

Holtzmann was already crawling out from under the desk, though she remained on her knees as she gathered up the pieces she had been working on and started assembling the trap with renewed purpose. She put the goggles back on, turning on a light on the side of the headpiece that lit up the front of the glasses in green. She turned to glance at Erin, grinning ear to ear. 

“You might want to get out of here now. Prolonged exposure to these cores can cause permanent, irreparable eye damage. You won’t go blind, not fully, but you might lose chunks of your vision. Like puzzle pieces falling out of a complete picture. Neat, huh?”

Exasperated and relieved at once, Erin could only stare at her fellow scientist for a few moments longer before realizing she was completely forgotten. She smiled, rolled her eyes, and got to her feet. Brushing off any potential dust or dirt from her skirt only allowed her a few more moments of watching Holtzmann carefully before she knew she would start looking suspicious. She turned to leave before remembering why she had gone into the lab in the first place.

“Oh! We all got some food from a place Patty recommended. It’s probably gone a little cold by now, but do you want some? I mean, you should eat, you need your strength for all this. You know. Science-ing.” 

Holtzmann ignored her, save for the smirk still on her face, her dimpled cheek giving her away even in the darkness. 

Erin, defeated for now, left the room and returned to the others, offering them a shrug as they looked at her in surprise. She took her seat again, though the others were half way through their food at this point. The two had been in that lab for a long while, and Abby assumed that meant they would both be coming out of it if Erin was involved. She was a very convincing person when she wanted to be, and seemed to have a way of soothing the beast that was Holtzmann, sometimes. In this instance, though, it seemed her handling skills had failed her. 

“She’s not eating? What’s wrong with her? You were in there a while,” Abby said, offering Erin a box of wings that she had found particularly delicious. Erin took the box with a nod of thanks, though she was not feeling all that hungry any more.

“It’s a long story, but she’s fine. Maybe one of you will have better luck dragging her out? I sort of… messed that part up. I did find out what was wrong with her, though.” 

She explained Holtzmann’s story as she made her own plate, and then put one together for their still missing nuclear engineer. Abby felt guilty that Holtzmann had been so upset about her being hurt by the ghost that it compelled her to work so hard to try and get it back. It also worried her that Holtzmann had not been able to trust them, or herself, enough to tell them all what happened. The idea that she would take the task on herself, and work so hard for so long, was troubling. 

Patty, on the other hand, took a less internal view of the situation.

“Well, we’ll get the ghost back when it causes a fuss next. That’s what we do, anyway, whether it’s that ghost or just a new one. I’m going to go drag her scrawny butt out here before I eat her food myself. What does she weigh, twenty pounds soaking wet? If talking doesn’t work, I’ll just carry her out. Abby, you want to be the good cop to my bad cop? Make her think she has a choice, but this time she sure as hell doesn’t.” 

Erin might have left a window of doubt, allowing Holtzmann to continue to ignore her needs to work, but Patty would close it.


	3. Subterfuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a trap!

Some people might have found being alone in an empty, repurposed fire house with most of the lights off in the middle of the night to be creepy or unfavorable, but Jillian Holtzmann found it calming. The quiet afforded her an unbroken focus, which she found herself able to produce her best work. She was often left alone in the lab to work, the others going home while she toiled away, though recently they had been keeping a closer eye on her than normal. She understood why: this focus was abnormal, even for her. Yes, she was quirky and generally difficult to predict as far as individual actions went, but in all that there was a kind of routine they’d come to expect and understand. 

She was happy, and she was kind. She worked very hard and she delighted in sharing the fruits of her labors with them. She worked for them, for their approval and for the team to be able to do better work. All of her pride came from working with them, so she poured a hundred percent of her skills and genius into making things better for them. That was all she really needed in life. When she failed, though, and something went wrong, she carried that weight with her. Recently, her work had been isolated and joyless. She did not go out of her way to explain her inventions to them, save under the desk with Erin earlier that day. She stayed late but without spending her time with them first: normally she was social, and she ate and played with them all day long, leaving them to wonder just how she managed to create the equipment she did. 

Now they saw through her, saw the dedication and long hours for what they were, because she shut herself away. She let them see just how deep into her focus she could get, and how her thoughts, always whirling and roiling, sometimes kept her awake all night. The only difference between now and her usual form was her inability to take care of herself at the same time. Losing that happiness, that optimism, damaged her in a way that became far too apparent to her friends. As badly as she wanted to fix what she saw as her mistake, they wanted to fix her. 

That was why Erin had come back to the fire house that night. Morning? It was late. No one should have still been in the building, considering they would be there bright and early in the morning to go through waiting cases, see which were hoaxes and which could possibly be real ghost activity. She could see the lights on the second floor, though, even if they were kept low. She also knew who it was working inside, and let herself in to go and check. 

Erin heard Holtzmann’s voice, in its normal tone, as she approached the second floor. She reached the top of the stairs and poked her head into the room, spotting Holtzmann sitting on top of a desk, phone to her ear. She had her back to the door, and did not see or hear Erin as she approached. 

“What do you want, a medal?” She was speaking flippantly, a laugh in her tone, though Erin could hear a trace of incredulity in it. There was a long pause, and Erin watched as Holtmann’s shoulders tightened, before she slowly turned around and saw her fellow Ghostbuster standing behind her. Erin offered a sheepish grin and a wave, apologetic for interrupting the late night phone call. Holtzmann just stared at her for a moment, but her eyes unfocused as whoever was on the other end of the phone started speaking again. 

The nuclear engineer listened, then hung up, taking a moment to gather herself before she turned toward Erin. Leaning forward, arms draped over her knees, she tilted her head at Erin and grinned sideways. 

“Aren’t you up past your bedtime, ma’am?”

“I could say the same to you. Except I would probably call you something sillier or cuter than… not, that I mean you’re cute, I just mean you’re calling me something that makes me feel old and stuffy, so I’d have to come up with something to imply you’re immature but I… anyway, what was that? A prank call?”

Holtzmann slid off the desk, moving back toward the lab area. Erin followed her, frowning as she was tossed a proton pack. Holtzmann pulled on her own, picking up her newly redesigned ghost trap. 

“What are you doing?”

“We. We’re going to the library. Our ghost friend is there again. Or still there. He just placed a little booty call, calling me over. I don’t think he’ll mind if I bring a hot friend.” 

“The ghost called you?” Erin ignored the flirting, as she always did. It was easier at the moment, with something pressing calling her concern over her need to be embarrassed. “What did it say?” 

“Like I said, it’s back at the library. It wants me to go talk to it. Catch it.” 

Erin got the impression there was a lot that Holtmann was not telling her, but dragging information out of the genius, but sometimes socially graceless nuclear engineer could be incredibly difficult when she did not want to give it. There were a lot of things about her that the team just did not know, and Erin imagined that was just how Holtmann wanted it. She hauled her proton back over her shoulder, resigning herself to a late night field trip to the library. She had always been a good student in school, but usually her sleepness nights studying in the library happened over finals, or during the special extended hours the campus library had for heavy testing periods. Not when it was closed.

“We should call the others,” Erin suggested, hurrying to catch Holtzmann, who bolted for the door. She grinned over her shoulder, confident and not the least bit worried about the prospect of a trap waiting for them. There was something masked in the smile, something forced and almost anxious, but Erin could not quite pick it out enough to call her on it. 

“We’ll be fine. Just in, zap and trap, and out.”

“Things are rarely that simple, Holtz,” Erin grumbled, but followed the other Ghostbuster dutifully. 

They locked up the fire house behind them, moving on foot to the library, which was near enough to not be an issue. No one was around to comment on the strange backpacks they were hauling, or to recognize them for who they were and stop them for questions. Ever since saving their home the first time, the Ghosbusters had become local celebrities. Stopping a massive ghost invasion would do that, and worked wonders for their PR.

The door was locked when they reached it, but before Erin could even suggest they give up and head back home, it unlocked itself and even politely swung inwards to allow them entrance inside. The moment they were passed the threshold, the door slammed shut again, with the lock quickly bolted back in place. Holtzmann pulled a face as Erin gave her a sharp ‘I told you so’ look, though they both continued on into the library without stopping to discuss the impact of walking directly into a trap. 

The library had managed to clean up quite a bit in the past week, though there were still obvious marks of the battle that had taken place. Some of the bookshelves were still emptied, with isles roped off for repairs and work. There were carts of books everywhere, gathered but not yet sorted through after being thrown all around the place. They had tried to focus on the more popular areas, with new releases and the children’s section getting put back on the shelves first. Reference was still mostly empty, though with the internet taking the place of encyclopedias, that was not too surprising. 

There were back up lights on, meant just to illuminate the building enough for the cameras to get clear views of anyone breaking in. They were not as bright as the normal day lights, and saved a lot on energy consumption during the non-operating hours for the library itself. Why they needed cameras, though, was likely tied more to unexplained ghost activity than to vagabonds and thieves. Still, they had done their best to cope with what little information they had, only knowing that things were moving, going missing, or breaking while no one was around. 

It was not until the Ghostbusters became a public resource, and witnessing what could happen when Ghosts were left to their own devices, that the library opted to hire them. It was currently a toss up if they regretted it or not, considering the mess that was made. They probably would want their money back if they found out the ghost had come back, particularly since Erin had closed the case with them and assured them their problems were over. 

Kevin was supposed to do that sort of thing, handling the office affairs while the girls were out catching the ghosts, but he was incredibly unreliable with most things. Erin did them for him, though he was all too happy to believe he was being useful and allowing her to help him was some sort of gift. 

At this point, they had all learned to just let Kevin believe what he wanted. It made things far less aggravating, not needing to stop and explain reality to him all the time. As long as he continued to be harmless, and seemed honestly invested in the company despite his short comings, he was a welcome part of their family. Just not a very useful one.

“You brought a friend,” a voice said, sounding faint, but all around. Holtzmann stopped, looking around, and Erin followed suit. Neither could spot the source, and Erin had a PKE Meter with her that did nothing to help them. “That is a shame. I hope you were not close. You will be the reason she suffers. And you will watch, while I watch you. But then, I know just how close you are. In a way, you brought me a present.” 

“What are you talking about?” Erin yelled, though she winced as her voice echoed around the open space. They had reached the center of the library, where there was a large, tiled image of a dragon on the floor. High over head there was a domed roof, with a spiral staircase leading up to two other levels of books. It terminated at the top of the dragon’s head, and each floor above had a circled railing that allowed guests to look down at the floor or up at the dome from the seating areas around the circle. It was great for acoustics, but Erin felt she might be yelling a little too loud for something that could probably hear them even if they whispered. 

The ghost did not reply to her, though, and she looked at Holtzmann for answers instead. The blond shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes darted away from Erin’s. Erin took a step toward her, onto the tiled dragon, and a white light burst up from under their feet, blinding them both. Holtzmann, still dressed for her work in the lab, pulled down her goggles, but the yellow lenses offered only a small amount of protection from the paranormal light.

“Welcome to my library, ladies.”

Erin could not see anything, though the voice cut through her senses with ringing clarity. She was calling out, maybe even screaming, but there was no sound except the ghost’s voice, which curled into a wicked laugh. Erin put her hands over her ears, eyes shut tightly, and felt like her head was going to collapse in on itself. Holtzmann slammed into her, desperate and in the same kind of pain, throwing them both off of their feet. She tackled Erin out of the circle, both rolling together away from the agonizing light and sound that had formed a pillar that filled the entire circle and reached all the way into the dome of the roof. 

With a groan, Holtzmann rolled onto her hands and knees, crawling the short distance to Erin to see if she was alright. She saw blood running from Erin’s nose and ears, and a drip that appeared on Erin’s clothes told her that she was bleeding in the same manner. The same laughter from before burst into the room again, filling Holtzmann’s ears and making her cry out in pain, clawing at her head in a fruitless effort to keep the noise from invading. Her mind blanked, darkness flooding her vision from the middle of her sight, stretching out and consuming every corner of her world. She crumpled on top of Erin, who was already unconscious.

The pillar of light expanded, flooding the entire library, washing over the two unconscious Ghostbusters. It faded, taking with it all the artificial lights from the building itself, plunging everything into complete darkness. The laughter faded into silence, and the library grew still. 

Nothing moved or made a sound, not even the two bodies curled together in the dark.


	4. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all I've got so far, but more chapters to come soon! Please feel free to let me know what you think, and if you'd like to see more!

Holtzmann was slow to wake up, needing time to gather her senses. The first thing that came to her was pain. Her head was throbbing mercilessly, a steady beat pulsing through her skull and down into her neck. She tried to remember what happened before she passed out, remembering something bad was going on with the mission, but could not exactly recall what had left her feeling so miserable. She sat up slowly, the blanket falling away from her as she did so. She knew something was happening with a ghost, that there had been a bright light.

Her head pulsed with pain and she held her hand up to her face, finding blood dripping from her nose. It made a memory stir, but not enough for her to piece things together just yet. She had flashes, broken images, and a lot of pain, but nothing concrete. 

A gentle hand caressed her cheek, drawing her attention and causing her to turn her head. She was startled, opening her eyes to find herself looking into Erin’s face. Her hair was messy from sleep, her eyes soft with concern, without make up or, as Holtzmann’s eyes traveled down, much in the way of clothing. Just a very light nightie over her underwear.

“Sweetie, hold on, your nose is bleeding again. Here, I’ll get it.” Erin said softly, grabbing a tissue from a box on the nearest bedside table to hold to her nose and stem the light flow. Holtzmann could only sit there in a stupor as Erin tended to her, returning the smile Erin gave her once she was satisfied the blood had stopped. “There. Is it the medication again? Did you have another nightmare?”

“Medication…? Erin what… what happened at the library?” 

“God, I really hate that stuff they have you on. The last one worked better, except for the migraines. There has to be something that doesn’t completely wreck your body, or change you into someone else,” Erin was moving out of the bed as she spoke, with a familiarity to her anger that came from a long dedication to worrying about it. This was something she cared about, but also talking about a lot before. She spoke with a sigh in her tone, as if she knew she was repeating herself. “It will get better, though, sweetie. I know it will.” 

She came around the end of the bed, to sit down next to Holtzmann. Leaning in, she kissed Holtzmann warmly on the lips, caressing her cheek reassuringly and resting her forehead against Holtzmann’s. Holtzmann’s breath was caught in her throat, her mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. It was turning each moment over, trying to decide if it was real or not. Everything in her told her it was not, except one small part of her heart that wanted it to be. 

The ghost. It knew that. It told her so. 

“This is a trick,” Holtzmann said, stiffly, jerking backwards and away from Erin. She scrambled further into the bed, perching on her knees near its center so she was an inconvenient distance away from Erin on all sides. Erin watched her, baffled but straining to be patient. This was not the first time her lover had gotten caught up in a delusion. “The ghost in the library. It’s setting me up. Us up. Are you even here, or is this happening to you, too? This is a distraction. A damn good one, I’m distracted as all hell, but as much as I’d love to waste my day with you here in this bed, I’ve got a ghost to catch.” 

She darted forward, leaping out of the bed and skittering away from it, to a nearby wardrobe. She needed clothes: she was only wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of men’s boxers. The wardrobe had a mixture of her things and Erin’s, neatly organized no doubt because of her apparent partner. There were things on Holtzmann’s side that she did not recognize, or even think she would ever wear, but she wondered if, in this universe, they had been gifts from Erin. 

How long were they supposed to be together? Was this supposed to be something she believed? 

It was ridiculous, preying on someone’s inner desires. The ghost read her like a book, seeing her crush for what it was, and manipulating those feelings to create this version of her world. But how could she believe something so paper thin? Erin never even acknowledged her reckless flirting, and that was always part of the fun. Making Erin blush in that beautiful, thoroughly exasperated way was one of Holtzmann’s favorite things to do, even if the other woman never really understood what it meant. Because Holtzmann was odd around everyone, of course, so it could not mean more than the nuclear engineer just being herself. 

And she was fine with it. She could live this way, chasing a girl that was oblivious to the whole thing. At least they were friends, and good ones. They trusted one another, and worked together closely with the other two members of their little family. And it was good: Holtzmann had no reason to want more. To force more to be real. She understood where she was meant to fit, which was more than she ever had before. Friends that understood her, or tried to, and accepted her either way. A place, a thing to do, a life. She would never do anything to ruin what she had, because it meant for too much to her. They all did. Erin did. 

This was not the Erin she knew. It was just the one an outsider into her mind thought she wanted.

“Sweetie,” Erin said gently, following her to the wardrobe. “You need to take your medication. I know the side effects are bad, but it’s worse when you miss a dose. We caught the library ghost, remember? It was two years ago. I know it was… it was really traumatic. But that’s why we’re trying these new meds, remember? Jillian.” 

Erin caught Holtzmann by the hands, turning her so they were face to face. Holtzmann stared at the floor, humming to herself in an effort to keep her mind focused on what she knew to be the truth. There was no reason to talk to this Erin: all she had to do was get out of here. 

It killed Erin every time she had to witness Holtzmann in this state. It seemed to happen every few months, as if her wild genius managed to catch up to her and separate her mind from reality. She splintered, unable to tell what was real and what was not, flashing back to cases of their past, or to the most traumatic moments of her life. This time, it was the ghost at the library. A common choice, and a terribly painful one, but over. Behind them. Every time Holtzmann dragged herself back to it, forced herself to suffer through her mistakes over and over, Erin felt like she was being tortured right along with her. It was unfair, and it was cruel. All Erin wanted was to take the pain away, and make the horrible memories stop.

They hunted ghosts for a living: they saved people from being haunted. Yet the only person Erin loved could never escape the ghosts that haunted her. It was why she worked so hard, why she was so good at her job and why her incredible mind was so valuable to the team. But it was also why she never slept, and when she did it was always with nightmares. It was why she had to take medication, to keep her from being consumed by the images and whirling memories that constantly threatened to crash down on her. Erin felt helpless, barely able to do a thing for her. 

Except love her. Heart and soul, and anything else Holtzmann asked of her. 

“It’s okay. I promise. I’m fine, okay? You saved me, you have to accept that. Everything else… there’s nothing else, okay? L-listen to me. I love you. I need you to remember that, as best as you can.” Erin felt the tears stinging her eyes, though she fought them valiantly. Every time this happened, it hurt more and more. To be forgotten, to be considered a lie. She held Holtzmann’s face in both of her hands, fingers curled around the back of her head, into her hair. “You are my girlfriend. You are the best thing in my life. No. You are my life, Jillian. You’re everything to me. Why can’t you just… just remember that?” 

Holtzmann stared at Erin, wide eyed, trembling. The humming stopped, and her efforts not to make eye contact failed. 

She had to change tactics here. Fighting against the false world was not working: it was built to deny her a plausible reason to doubt it. Any protest she came up with, it would be countered in some kind of a convincing way. Plus, seeing Erin, even a fake one, crying before her was tearing her heart apart. And those kind of emotions were just not things she was prepared to deal with. Particularly not now, in the middle of a case.

“Doctor Gilbert,” Holtzmann breathed, surging forward suddenly and throwing her arms around Erin’s neck. She hugged her tightly, still shaking, and Erin moved her arms to return the hug. Holtzmann buried her face against Erin’s neck, and Erin kissed the side of her head lovingly. Holtzmann pulled back, blue eyes marred by red strain, tears running down her face. Erin remembered a time when she had never seen Holtzmann cry before, and missed it each time something like this happened. She wiped the tears away as gently as she could, taking a few breaths to steady herself. 

“Do you remember what happened at the library?” Erin asked carefully, her gaze still concerned. Bent, not broken, but there was something else. Understanding. Love. 

“We got there, late. Alone. The ghost was waiting. There was that pillar of light and I… I went full linebacker into you. You fell, I landed on top of you. You were out cold… there was blood. I passed out after that.” Her head ached with the memory, and she put her hand to forehead. Erin saw it, knowing it was difficult to think clearly about such a jumbled mess of nightmares. This moment plagued her, almost destroyed her: but Erin was determined to make it easier. She bent forward, kissing Holtzmann lingeringly on the forehead, catching her hand in her own and holding it tightly, fingers laced together. She pulled back, smiling reassuringly.

“I hit my head on the tile. I almost bled to death while you were unconscious on top of me. When you woke up you panicked, you called Abby and Patty. But you caught the ghost before they got there. You stopped the bleeding. You sat with me and you talked to me, and you kept me alive. And who knows what would have happened if the ghost had gotten us with that light? Whatever that was, you saved us both from that. You did everything right: you have to stop blaming yourself for it.” 

Holtzmann watched her, listening to the story as if for the first time. As far as she knew, she had never lived it, but Erin had. Erin looked at her in earnest, silently begging her to remember. To accept this reality, even to return to her. 

“I… I hurt you,” Holtzmann said softly, thinking back on the encounter. She had tackled Erin as hard as she could, and Erin had been unconscious when Holtz blacked out. After that, she could not remember without the pain returning. 

“You didn’t. I swear, you didn’t. It was the ghost, and the panic, and the circumstance, and I’m fine. I’m fine, Jill, and I love you. I’m here.” 

Holtzmann closed her eyes as Erin kissed her deeply, pulling back with only slight hesitation before leaning into the kiss. She let herself feel it, feel what it was like to be loved by someone, even for a fleeting, fake moment. Erin deepened the kiss when she felt Holtzmann returning it, letting a soft moan escape her throat, which her lover could all but taste. It sent a shiver down her spine, causing Holtzmann to grip the thin fabric of Erin’s night clothes, tugging her closer.

She wanted to know this. Wanted to remember it. But it was not that simple, was it? She blacked out her memories because she was having some sort of psychotic break? And Erin, damaged but coping, somehow wanted to be around every time this happened. Walked her through it, holding her hands and bringing her back to herself. For what, a handful of months? How could that be worth it? 

What sort of life was that? 

It was selfish to want this to be real. To believe it, wasn’t it? Holtzmann could not do this to Erin, not when she knew this world did not exist. No matter how badly Erin believed in it, in them, or in her. It was unfair, forcing someone she loved to take care of her, to deal with the kind of madness her genius intellect and quirky nature seemed to have devolved into. It was terrifying, thinking that this could be what her future held. What Erin’s future held, if she was made to suffer it.

Holtzmann had to fix this. She had to get back to the real world. At some point, the kiss had ended. They were standing together, safe in each other’s arms, taking what comfort they could. Each facing their own impossible difficulty, both knowing the other was the only way through.

“Let’s get your pills, okay, sweetie?”


	5. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gets a little bloody at the end, there, so heads up!

There was nothing. Nothing to be seen, or felt, or understood. It was not just dark, but utterly black. She could hear something, distant, as if filtered through deep water. She felt heavy, her body all but missing. She had no concept of where her arms or legs were, no feeling in her chest. She could not even feel the pulse of her heart beat in her ears. It was still, and dark, and miserable. The sound in the distance remained, the only thing to hold on to, and she tried as hard as she could to find it. Move to it. Anything. 

There was nothing.

But that sound. There was hope in it, if she could only reach it. If she could only know what it was, see who was making it. Her heart burned, as if suddenly catching fire. All at once, she felt pain through her body, and light blinded her from all around. She screamed into the empty silence, her voice failing and breaking, dying in the confusion. The sound that freed her was there again, closer, clearer than it had been. 

“Holtzmann!”

Her eyes snapped open, a gasp escaping her chest before she caught it, sitting up and looking around the room. It was light now, sunlight filtering from the window over the bed’s headboard. It had to have been midday, maybe later. She was in bed again, but she felt groggy and lethargic despite the apparent nap she had taken. She got up slowly, looking around the room. It was not a place she recognized, not her place or the one Erin used to live in. Presumably, they had moved in to this place together, though Holtzmann had no memory of it. 

It was nice. Spaceous. Looking out the window, she could see the firehouse not too far away, which made it conveniently close to work. She moved away from the window, back to the wardrobe from before, opening it and exploring the clothes inside. She picked out something familiar, needing that comfort, and feeling more like herself. Her usual necklace, a U with a circle around it and a screw through the middle, was sitting on top of a dresser, beside a pair of yellow glasses. She gathered them both with her selected outfit, and went to the bathroom to shower and dress for the day. 

Falling into what felt like a normal routine was strangely easy, though she did not notice until she had her hair done and was looking at herself in the mirror. She had known where everything was, without spending thought on it, though now that she was trying to focus on her actions she found herself confused and unsure. It should have been so small, the idea of simply knowing where shampoo and the hair dryer were kept, but in that moment it was the most complicated idea the nuclear engineer had ever tried to understand. 

Could the ghost manipulate her instincts? Make her know something without her feeling like she knew it? Or was this something she really had done before, probably hundreds of times, while living here with Erin? Had she really just forgotten her own life?

The doubt was the most terrifying part about it all, as Holtzmann considered herself a very confident and reckless person. There was no room for doubt, because she made sure to factor it out of the equations life broke down into. It was like building any effective ghost hunting machine: the erroneous was removed, and the rest refined to its optimal performance. 

Moving from the bathroom, Holtzmann made her way from the bedroom and into the living room. Adjoining it was the kitchen, separated by an island, and Erin was making some food for their late lunch. She looked up when she heard Holtzmann, smiling to see her dressed and looking much more like herself, even if her expression was still doubtful. She looked tired, and Erin could see the weight of the medication bearing down on her. 

The dose had been strong, and it likely felt like an elephant sitting on her shoulders. 

“If you wait in the living room, I’ll bring lunch in there, hm?” 

“What about the crumbs?” Holtzmann asked on impulse, arching an eyebrow at Erin skeptically. It brought a massive smile to Erin’s face, who put down what she was working on and hurried around the island to throw her arms around Holtzmann’s neck and shoulders. She hugged her tightly, chuckling softly, though Holtzmann could her tears in her voice. Erin was burying her face against the other woman’s neck, though, so it was hard to tell. 

“I think, for today, I’ll be okay with them. You can even put your feet on the coffee table.”

“And you won’t click your tongue at me? This sounds more and more like a trap, the more I hear,” she grinned, though Erin’s happiness and her tears stung her deep in her chest. She encouraged Erin to move by gently putting her hand on her shoulder, guiding Erin back and looking her in the face. It was red, but she was smiling warmly, lovingly, and clearly indicating that she just wanted to hug Holtzmann again.

Comforting Erin came naturally, Holtzmann found. Just like knowing where things were. Even as she spoke, talking about crumbs and feet on the table, feeling like she had done them before, she could not remember them as ever actually happening. It was like her mind was simply implying that she had once gotten crumbs on the sofa, and Erin had not liked it, or that she put her feet on the coffee table all the time, just to annoy her partner. They were supposed to be these familiar things, so familiar they came without being bidden, and yet the more she thought about them, the less real they seemed. There were holes where the moments should have been in her memory, if they had ever been there at all. 

Every passing moment made Holtzmann less sure. And more afraid. 

Holtzmann grounded herself by focusing on Erin’s face, catching it suddenly in both of her hands. Erin looked at her, surprised but not entirely so. She had learn to accept Holtzmann’s unpredictable behavior as normal. Hell, that was a large part of what she loved so much about the other woman. Holtzmann examined her face, then drew her close and kissed her. Erin let out a squeak of surprise, held captive for the moment, but ultimately not finding it necessary to try and escape. She returned the kiss with a smile, tugging Holtzmann into the kitchen with her. She backed up into the refrigerator, bumping into it but not missing a beat as Holtzmann’s fierce kisses continued. Holtzmann was a little shorter than her, but Erin liked the way it made them fit against one another, wrapping her arms around her lover’s waist and hugging her closer. 

Holtzmann broke the make out session abruptly, staring into Erin’s eyes for a long moment. Erin watched her, breathless, though she could not begin to guess what was going on behind those piercing, endlessly intelligent and curious, beautiful blue eyes of hers. 

“Something wrong?” Erin breathed, but Holtzmann smirked at her and shook her head. She stole another kiss before retreating, waving her hand over her shoulder.

“Stop goofing off, I’m hungry,” she said teasingly, before climbing over the back of the sofa and dropping down into the seat. Erin stared after her, then rolled her eyes and gathered herself enough to go back and finish what she was doing in the kitchen. Holtzmann sat quietly for a moment, reclining with her feet up on the coffee table, as per usual. Apparently. She was staring at the ceiling, turning her thoughts over while trying not to think too hard about the taste Erin left on her lips, and how much she wanted more. 

Erin came into the room, noting the feet and clicking her tongue behind her teeth. 

“Hey, you promised,” Holtzmann reminded her, grinning as she tugged her legs to her, curling them under her and sitting crosslegged on the sofa instead. Erin was not sure that was much of an improvement. Holtzmann took the plate she was offered, looking at the sandwich but finding she did not, in fact, feel hungry at all. Saying so felt right at the time, but her body disagreed. In fact, the sight of the food made her stomach hurt. She sat in silence for a long moment, staring at the plate. 

“No good? I remembered you said you liked-“

“I dreamed you were screaming for me,” Holtzmann said abruptly, not lifting her eyes from their downcast position, though they were unfocused and she was clearly not as interested in the sandwich as it seemed. “I heard your voice so clearly. Screaming for me. You sounded hurt, and frightened, and desperate. But you were… screaming for me. Worried about me.”

“Oh, I forgot the coffee. Uhm. Keep talking, I’ll just…” Erin got up, feeling awkward about interrupting the story, but also finding it very difficult to listen to yet another nightmare about her. They were always about her, after all, and usually ended very badly. She retreated into the kitchen, though Holtzmann did not really seem to notice.

“Nothing I feel makes sense,” Holtzmann continued, “when I say things, I’m detached from them. When I think about the things I say, I get confused. Right now, my head is pounding. But I think it hurts because it’s right. Not in a kinky, weird way. I think… none of this is real, Erin. You’re not real. Not the Erin I need to be saving. The one trying to save me.”

“Jillian…” Erin said, from the kitchen. Holtzmann heard a cup clink as Erin put it down heavily, though she did not look back at the other woman. Somehow, seeing the pain on her face, even knowing it was not real, was too difficult for Holtzmann to do. “You need to stop this. You’re only hurting yourself.” 

“No. I’m sure now. I know I’m right. You’re not real!”

Holtzmann dropped the plate, pain tearing through her head and a new pain blossoming in her chest. She let out a cry of surprise, holding her hands to her head and gripping it as if that might do something to ease the agony. It did not, and Holtzmann felt dizzy and nauseous as the pain increased. She got up, stumbling against the sofa, then into the coffee table. She felt a firm hand grabbing her arm, keeping her from falling over, though she stumbled back and ended up leaning against Erin’s body for support instead. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out on her, but Erin wrapped one arm around her back to keep her upright. 

“Sweetie…” Erin breathed, tears rolling down her face. “Please, stop. You have to stop. Why can’t you just believe in this? In us? I know it’s real. And so do you. Just trust your instincts, okay? Trust me.” 

Erin spoke softly, leaning down to keep her face near Holtzmann’s. Their cheeks were touching, Erin whispering desperately into her ear, while Holtzmann clung to her for dear life with both of her hands. One was on Erin’s hip, the other on her shoulder, where they ended up in her effort to save herself from falling down. She did not have the capacity to move them, not focusing on anything but the fire burning in her chest. The pain in her head. 

“Th-this is not real,” Holtzmann managed, through gritted teeth. 

There was a moment of utter silence. The sounds of life outside the windows, the crackling of the coffee pot as it boiled forgotten in the kitchen, the hum of the electronics sitting idle in the television cabinet, all vanished. Even the warm, comforting beat of Erin’s heart abandoned Holtzmann, leaving her feeling desperately alone. 

“Stupid girl.”

The voice was only vaguely familiar, and certainly not the one she expected to come out of Erin. Wrenched her head up, pushing back against Erin suddenly, Holtzmann tried to flee. There was no going anywhere, though, with Erin’s arm holding her as tightly as it was. The strength in the hold was not human. 

Not Erin.

Holtzmann opened her mouth to say something, but only a gasp escape. The knife slid into her stomach without any trace of resistance. She stumbled backwards, released from Erin, who was grinning wickedly. She shoved Holtzmann away from her, sending her falling back into the sofa, which hurt when she landed on it. The cushions were no longer soft and worn, familiar, but solid like stone. They may have been, though Holtzmann had too many other things to focus on to really take note. 

Blood seeped out from around the knife, covering Holtzmann’s shaking hands as she tried to stem it feebly. Erin stepped forward leisurely, taking hold of the knife’s hilt despite Holtzmann’s weak attempts to stop her. Erin turned the knife, dragging an agonized scream from Holtzmann’s throat, which only made Erin grin with more wicked cruelty. 

“You should have let us play a little longer. Who knew you were in such a hurry for pain? But pain, my little toy, I am more than happy to give.”


	6. Analysis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! And look, an Erin chapter. Because she's in this, too.

Erin Gilbert felt like her head had been filled with shards of glass, and she was then shaken around rather violently. It hurt even to open her eyes, and she only dared peek a glance around with one instead of both. It was not particularly bright in the room, which was a surprising relief, though that feeling was fleeting when she saw the glowing form of the ghost hovering not too far off. It was, in fact, the only source of light in the room, but its physical manifestation gave off enough of a glow that it illuminated everything near it. Erin herself fell just outside of this range, but her companion did not. 

Holtzmann was resting on what looked to be an old library cart, flat on top and with the wheels removed to make it a makeshift table. She did not appear, as far as Erin could tell in the dim green and blue glow, to be restrained beyond being unconscious. The ghost was standing beside her, though its feet were not quite on the floor so technically it was floating beside her, with one hand on her forehead and the other on her chest, just over her heart. Its hands were just slightly sunken in to Holtzmann’s body, and Erin could see her face was twisted in pain. 

“Holtzmann!” She yelled, struggling to stand but finding herself secured with ropes of some kind, her arms tied behind her back and secured to something mounted in the wall. The ghost did not notice her yelling, wholly consumed by what it was doing. It took all of its focus, and it did not even register the noise with a flinch or a glance. Erin might as well have not been there. 

She took a breath, trying to force herself to remain calm. She had to do something to help, not just let panic and concern override her ability to think. A plan was needed, and she was not going to miss her window of opportunity again. What she needed to do was take stock of her location, figure out where their gear was, and find a way to free herself from her bonds. Then she could hopefully get the ghost away from whatever it was doing to her companion. 

The room was dark, but she had already noticed that. It was also cold, and there was a dusty smell clinging to the air. High above, she could just make out beams and supports, and her eyes were just adjusting enough to allow her to see support pillars around the surprising large space. It was filled with boxes and what looked like book cases, leading her to believe they had simply been brought to the basement underneath the library. 

It was not a wholly comforting thought, however. The ghost seemed to be in control of this particularly domain, and it was unlikely anyone would accidentally make their way downstairs from above. Likewise, the ghost would surely have insurance methods to prevent their being discovered or escaping while it was busy. It would know that whatever it was doing to Holtzmann, whatever it would in turn do to Erin, would take all of its focus, and be prepared. 

At the very least, Erin needed to assume the worst case scenario, and plan accordingly. She needed her gear, as catching the ghost was probably the only certain way to free them from its powers. 

Holtzmann screamed. 

Drawn from her thoughts, Erin looked up to see the ghost had moved its hand from her chest and now had it impaled wrist deep in her side. Holtzmann was writhing in agony, fighting with everything she had, but it kept its hand on her forehead, pressing deeper into her body to reestablish its full control. She fell silent, body growing still and limp, and the ghost slowly drew its hand out of her side. It seemed to wake from a daze, shaking its head and floating back from the library cart. Its form flickered, the color emitting from its body dimming and almost going dark for a moment before it grounded itself. Rather literally, since it stopped floating and let its feet touch the ground to conserve its energy. 

Erin was surprised to see that it had a physical form, not limited to the incorporeal nature of its abilities so far. It was able to possess and control objects around it, and to pass its hands into a living being to remotely control it, or at least subject that person to its will. It could inflict pain in this way, but the contact seemed largely non-physical, attacking the body through the mind and somehow tricking its nervous system to respond to painful stimulus. It being able to touch the ground, though, and give density to its manifested form, was a startling glimpse at more power than she was anticipating.

This was no ordinary ghost. 

Not there ever was such a thing.

She was not given too much time to study it further, though, before she realized the feet she was so wrapped up in analyzing were now stepping in her direction. She looked up, breath hitching in her throat as the ghost focused on her, grinning at her wickedly as it drew close. 

“What have you done to her?” Erin said, with feigned fearlessness. The rope attaching her to the wall was not long enough to let her stand completely, and the most height she was able to get was to either squat or kneel. Neither option seemed particularly dignified, nor did they go far to reinforce the ‘I am not scared of you’ vibe she was going for. She tried both, but gave up and sat down defiantly instead, staring up at him like a petulant child protesting being grounded. 

“She loves you, you know,” the ghost replied coolly, putting its ghostly hands in its ghostly pockets. Its facial features were male, and oddly striking now that she could see them up close. She could not tell what age he was from, or even how old he had been when he died: it was as if his face was slowly but surely shifting through different periods of his life at a constant rate. The more she tried to focus on his features, the more they shifted, a new face every time she looked him over. The eyes were the only thing that never changed, electric and clear as they regarded her with contempt and mild amusement. Even his speech patterns shifted, his voice echoing.

Erin stared at him, his words managing to pierce her distracting analysis of his form. 

“You’re torturing her,” Erin growled, unbidden tears stinging her eyes. She struggled against them, feeling her throat tightening in protest as she tried to speak. “Stay out of her head, Spooky: you have no right to use anything you find there against her! Or against me!”

“Did you know of her feelings? You do not seem surprised. Yet she was under the impression you do not understand her advances as more than a playful game. She believes you to be perfect. As laughable as that is, for a human, but I suppose she does not know better. Yet. Still, it is strange that so complicated a creature is also so easily nullified, simplified, by something as fleeting and trivial as companionship. Even when I was alive, I did not have stock in such frivolous emotions.” 

Erin listened to him speak, eyes turning to Holtzmann without her consent. She grimaced, guilt biting through her chest at the very idea that this ghost was using thoughts of Erin herself to hurt Holtzmann so badly. The nuclear engineer was harmless and happy, and in no way had ever earned such miserable treatment. If anything, Erin envied her ability to approach life with a smile and a joke, no matter what was happening. Sometimes, Erin had trouble understanding what seemed to be wacky or nonsensical behavior, but Holtzmann was always in control of herself. She always put her friends, her family, first: she loved everyone, and would do anything for them. To hurt her because of those feelings of devotion, to turn them against her, seemed too cruel to bear. 

This had to stop.

“What do you want from us? You’re mad that we tried to trap you, so you’re tormenting us? Why did you only contact Holtzmann? Why are you hurting her?”

“You’re not listening. Curious. Perhaps I am saying too much for you to hear, or you simply refuse to. Nevermind, you will come to understand in time. Your selfishness will only cause her more pain. As to your questions, I can only offer a small explanation for now. I have been in this form for longer than you can fathom, and this is my only joy. And she was the most interesting of the four of you. I hoped she might prove a challenge, a curiosity, but she is as disappointing as the rest of you humans. Ultimately, you are all the same.” 

Erin scowled, shocked by his admission.

“You’re hurting us because you’re bored?”

“To phrase it unpleasantly, yes.” 

The ghost turned from her, walking away from them both. It took its glow, substantially dimmer than before, with it, plunging Erin into darkness once again. She watched him go, a bit stunned for the conversation to end so abruptly, but she was not about to call him back. There had to be limits to his power, and she saw him struggling to maintain the power in his manifestation. The way his glow kept coming in and out, and how long the pauses between being able to glow lighter were getting, meant he was running low on whatever it was he drew power from. If he was going to retreat for now, to recharge, then maybe she would have a chance to escape, and-

A bolt of ectoplasm slammed into her chest as the ghost turned suddenly and threw it at her. She had not been expecting it, the force of it knocking her back against the wall with a ragged gasp. All the air in her lungs rushed out, leaving her head spinning and light as she struggled for a full breath, body sagging to the floor. The light from the ghost completely vanished, thinking it had rendered both of its captives unconscious to give himself long enough to recover his energy. 

Erin, however, had been leaning forward just enough to avoid smacking her head back against the wall, as she had done the floor earlier. That would have surely knocked her out, maybe even killed her considering she really had taken a hard hit when Holtzmann tackled her, and was probably already dealing with a concussion. Though the bolt hurt like hell, like being punched in the stomach by a person three times her size, she clung to consciousness as desperately as she could. No matter what, she had to get to Holtzmann. 

No matter what. 

It took a longer time than she really wanted to waste to get her breath back, but once she had she renewed her efforts to free herself of the rope. In a way, she was thankful that the ghost had not found some other means to tie her up, or used its seemingly endless abilities against her. It hurt, and took some strange bending of her hand that would haunt her in the morning, but she managed to slide one hand from the loop of the rope. That done, she was able to throw the rope off and was on her feet in a flash. She stumbled, head spinning with the sudden movement, but she was too focused to stop now. 

“Holtz,” Erin whispered, stumbling up to the side of the library cart turned table, gently cradling Holtzmann’s head and lifting it from the table. She held it carefully in the crook of her arm, using her other hand to lightly tap Holtzmann’s cheek. “Come on, Holtz, wake up. Holtzmann? I need you to open those… those… e-eyes of yours for me, okay?” 

Erin was not sure what to say, but found Holtzmann was not responding, despite her best efforts to stumble through. She ran her hand through Holtzmann’s hair, which had come undone from its usual, complicated style in all the chaos. She did her best to ease the tangles and wildness of it, but ultimately it was just a way to distract herself as she begged her friend, her colleague, to wake up. 

What if the ghost had done too much damage to her mind?

“I need you to look at me in that… that really confusing way, okay? I need you to make me feel stupid and wonderful and really, really uncomfortable, because I really like that. And I don’t want to not see or feel it again. So please, Holtz. Just… just wake up.” Her voice cracked and she hugged Holtzmann to her, overwhelmed and terrified. She hugged her tightly, until she heard a soft moan of protest and felt Holtzmann’s hand tugging her sleeve feebly. “Holtz!” 

She nearly dropped the other woman in her surprise, jerking back and catching her by the shoulders to steady them both. Holtzmann smiled at her, eyes dark and breathing labored, but awake and aware. 

“Sorry, I was hoping you’d bribe me to open my eyes with something, and was holding out for that,” she whispered, sounding exhausted. Erin let out a relieved, pained laugh and hugged her again, even tighter this time, and Holtzmann returned it as best she could. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”


	7. Morale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the wait! Lots of stuff going on but mostly I just fail at being consistent! Still, here's the new one and thank you all for your support so far! I love hearing from anyone that's reading and enjoying! 
> 
> And now, Erin's turn to be messed with.

Unsure of when the ghost was going to be back, Erin and Holtzmann moved as quickly as they could to get their packs. They both felt much better with their equipment back, Holtzmann checking to make sure nothing was damaged or altered, though her diagnostics had to be abbreviated by Erin, who reminded her they were on a time crunch. She made sure, at the very least, that Erin’s pack was in working condition, giving her a thumbs up. Her own pack would have to get a check up later, but she was comfortable knowing that at least Erin was armed and able to protect herself. 

The basement of the library was large and mostly empty. The walls were made of stone, with large, thick pillars that supported the old, Victorian building above. It was cool and dark, with only lights strung together and draped through the rafters to light small pools in certain areas where things were stored. It was interesting to see the way the library had not added any new features or electrical lights in the basement, and seemed to work around the darkness by only storing things under the limited lights. They had so much more space, but most of it was wasted.

There was probably a reason no one ventured into the darkness. 

Having met that reason, and finding him very unpleasant, Holtzmann was not interested in going out and finding him again in that moment. Once they were out of the basement, which seemed to be his domain, and back up where they could gain some footing back, then she would start thinking about how to catch him and make sure he was locked away for good. 

“The stairs,” Erin pointed, and Holtzmann followed her up the stairs. They expected to find a door into the library at the top, but instead were greeted by a wall that matched the rest of the basement. Erin put her hand on it, but it was solid. 

“Give it a proton blast,” Holtzmann said, elbowing Erin’s pack, “if it’s a projection or a manifestation of that jerk’s power, the pulse will disrupt it.”

Erin nodded, stepping back and making sure Holtzmann was behind her before firing a small burst of her proton gun at the wall. She did not sustain the beam long, just enough to see that it was doing nothing more than charring the rock of the wall. It was otherwise unchanged, and Holtzmann clicked her tongue behind her teeth in disappointment. 

“Really wanted that to work,” she sighed, leaning on the rail of the stairway and looking back into the basement. The far end was completely shrouded in darkness, giving the space an endless feel. She did not want to have to make a trip down that way, but something told her they were still being led around by the nose by this ghost. 

He let them reunite, and was not bothered by the idea of them getting their gear back. He was testing them, or simply playing with them. Either way, he was still in control. She looked up, contemplating the ceiling, and the chances of successfully blasting a hole through to the other side. It would be impossible to climb out, even if they could somehow generate enough power to blast through, and there was always the risk of hurting someone on the other side. If there was an other side. 

“There’s got to be another way out,” Erin said, moving back down the stairs. She was sticking to the light, as the library workers were apparently prone to do, but Holtzmann walked through the gaps in the pools of light without any apparent anxiety. She was tired of being afraid of this ghost, and carried herself fittingly. 

“What do you want to bet the only way out is that way,” Holtzmann cooed, pointing toward the dark end of the basement. Erin frowned, but nodded her head, thinking the same thing. He made a show of retreating that way, and she could recognize a trap when she saw one. Most of the time, anyway. She was just hoping that maybe he was not as thorough as he seemed, or talked a big game without any follow through. So far, it seemed like he was as good as he wanted them to believe.

“But what else is going to be that way,” Erin asked, though it was meant to be rhetorical. Holtzmann strode by her, patting her on the butt as she went, jarring her out of her musing and making her blush furiously. She quickly realized that was the intention: somehow, Holtzmann was making this feel normal. Like any other mission they went on. It made her feel a little more comfortable, and a lot more confident, and she was thankful for that. Somehow, Holtzmann always knew when to pull her punches, and when to show her strength. Even if, sometimes, Erin had trouble knowing which was which. 

Erin followed Holtzmann into the darkness, focusing on the red glow of her proton pack and using it as a light source as she fell into step only a foot or so behind her friend. The further they walked, the darker it became, and Erin quickened her pace as the light from Holtzmann’s pack began to fade even as they remained the same distance apart. Even as she felt like she was getting closer, Holtzmann vanished from view.

“Holtz?” she called, but her voice felt dampened even as it left her throat, and faded in the dense air around her. She came to a stop, not sure if she should continue forward or try to turn back. Holtzmann had not stopped or turned around, or if she had Erin had not been able to see it. Erin was torn between the two choices, debating with herself and chewing on her lower lip uncertainly for a longer moment than she realized. She decided to keep moving forward at length, taking a step and being greeted by a burst of bright yellow light. 

She winced, lifting her arm to cover her eyes, casting shadow over her face. The light was above her, streaming down. She felt the warmth of it now, and bumped into something as she continued her step forward. Closing one eye, looking down and letting the other one focus, she saw a podium, with a small microphone sitting on it, and cue cards with scrawled letters that looked very similar to her own handwriting. Looking up again, she found the light had softened, though the warmth had grown, and she looked up to see stage lights angled toward her from a catwalk above. Below, row and row of seats filled with well dressed men and women. They were all on their feet, clapping, and the sound reached her ears as soon as she realized she had not heard it. 

Blinking, she put her hands on the podium just to steady herself, noticing now that she was no longer wearing the gear she’d left the lighthouse with. Instead, she was wearing a beautiful black dress, and her hair was pulled up into a styled but that was likely far more expensive to have done than she would ever see herself spending, but always dreamed about doing. She did not own a dress like this, either, and her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the necklace and jewelry she was wearing. It was all beautiful, and made her feel like she was some kind of princess. 

No, this was not some sort of pageant, but an award ceremony of some kind. She saw the statuette sitting on the podium now, where it had not been before. An award in science, from thousands of colleagues, all of them clapping for her as a unique mind in the field guided by the true practice of the scientific method. Her hand shook as she reached for the trophy, and as her fingers lightly traced its base, the crowd quieted and sat down. 

They watched her, expectant, eager, murmuring happily and in excitement as she stood there dumbly. 

“I…” she watched them, wondering if it was too late to start imagining them in their underwear. Her nerves flared to life, and she struggled to pick up her cue cards, fumbling with them and almost dropping them. The audience laughed jovially, and someone shouted that she could do it. She smiled sheepishly and waved, which resulted in mild clapping, and she cleared her throat as she read over the first cue cards. “I am honored to be receiving this award for my work in the application of particle and quantum physics to the Paranormal-“

“Where’s Doctor Yate?” a voice from the audience called suddenly.

Jarred, Erin looked up, wide eyed and confused. The audience was bathed in lights, and she could not make out faces or the source of the call. 

“I don’t believe she’s coming… to the uhm. Paranormal…”

“What about Doctor Holtzmann?”

“Again, this is my award…”

“Yeah, but they’re the real scientists, aren’t they?” 

Erin’s heart hit her stomach at those words, and the crowd’s murmuring turned darker. Whispers, unsure and almost accusing, filled the air. Erin shook her head, looking at her cue cards for help but finding them blank. She cleared her throat again, though this time it felt like she was forcing a thorn bush back down. 

“I’m a real scientist, too. I’ve always been a real scientist. It’s my work that we use to help us track and capture ghosts, to protect the city. A city, I’ll remind you all, that laughed at us before we-“

“But doesn’t Dr. Holtzmann build the equipment?”

“Yes, she does, but she uses the science and math that I developed with-“

“Dr. Yates, right? Weren’t they building things together without you being there? While you were pretending this science you’re not getting an award for didn’t exist, and laughing at it just like the rest of the world? Wasn’t that what you were saying?”

Erin squinted into the lights, desperately wanting to find the source of the voice, so she had something concrete to yell at. If he was wearing an ugly suit, she could at least have something to fire back at him with. She felt helpless and vulnerable, taking shots with no way to defend herself. Maybe that was because she felt what he was saying as true, and she had no defense for the cutting remarks. There was no defense. 

“Y-yes, they were, but we only started hunting ghosts after I came back to…”

“Stop her from embarrassing you. Which she did anyway, and you got stuck with them. Isn’t that what happened? How can you be proud of any of the work you do, when it’s all based on lies and shame? You weren’t considered a real scientist before, and you’re still not one now. I don’t think you’ll ever be. You have no right to call yourself one.” 

“Who… who is that? How do you know any of that? This… this is just my mind. This is… this is my doubt, my lack of confidence… I’m not going to let you shake my-“

“I don’t need to. You and I both know you have no faith in what you’re doing. You know you’re going to fail, you’re going to let them all down. You’re going to get them killed. You almost let Yates get hurt, in the library, didn’t you? A subway worker had to take command, because you could not muster the strength to do it. You lack the skills. You’re not a smart enough scientist to keep up with Yates and Holtzmann, and you’re not even a powerful enough leader to support someone like Tolan. Even Kevin does a more important job for the team than you do, and he thinks the answering machine actually answers any questions left on it, and doesn’t call them back.”

“He does do that,” Erin mumbled wistfully, though she grimaced at the idea that even he was doing more work than she was. Important work, that actually helped the team. Recently, she had been wondering just what she contributed to the team, if anything at all, and seeing them working so hard, day after day, only made her wonder if she was good enough to be a part of their team. Or if she was holding them back, pretending to be someone she was not. And never could be. 

“Excuse me, not to butt in, but,” a new voice joined the conversation, this one getting closer and cutting through the haze that had settled over Erin’s mind. She searched through the lights of the cat walk and saw a familiar form making her way down the aisle between the seats. She stopped in the orchestra pit, which was empty, and stared up at Erin defiantly. “Jillian Holtzmann, Radio Times. I just wanted to get a quote. Why do you give a cat’s tight ass what these bastards think?” 

Erin stared at Holtzmann, breathing hard and realizing she was gripping the podium so tightly her knuckles had turned white, and the particle board was groaning in protest. She let go, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around herself instead. 

“Because they’re right-“

“No, Erin, they’re not.” Holtzmann said it so flatly, so seriously, Erin could hardly fathom how deep her conviction ran. She had absolutely no doubt in her voice, which was a feeling Erin rarely experienced. If ever. Confidence was not her forte, but it certainly was Holtzmann’s. “And you’re not, either. Stop moping and shake off this dream, or I’m going to come up there and shake you out of it myself.”

“You don’t understand, Holtzmann. You’re a genius: you have no reason to doubt your abilities, and you can build a nuclear bomb out of a discarded dinner plate and a paper clip. I… it’s different for me. I… I don’t know if I can keep up with you guys any more. You and Abby work so well together, I never-“

“We don’t work without you. No one does. This team doesn’t. Erin, you are one of the most amazing people I know. One of the smartest. And I know myself, so that’s not an easy feat. You’re beautiful and you’re funny. Sure, you think too much and you talk yourself out of doing anything fun, but that’s just part of your charm. You’re our heart. Without you, Abby and I would become super villains, and Patty would probably go back to the Subway. Except she’d be meaner, and scarier. She’d be like everyone else. You make us special, and you make us happy. Abby only does this because she’s doing it with you! You know that! You never saw how sad she was, whenever she mentioned you. And it’s your math that inspires me to make every crazy thing I come up with: I’ve never seen science leap off a page the way yours does. You have no idea, because you don’t let yourself see it. You hide away from everything because you somehow think you don’t deserve all this love and praise we want to give you, but you do. So shut up, get down from there, and let’s go catch this goddamn ghost!”

Erin had never heard Holtzmann say so much at one time before, and she struggled to process every word. Yet each one had hit their mark, sinking deeply into her and making her shudder time and again. Holtzmann spoke with utter belief in what she was saying, not matter how abrasively she was saying it, and Erin stepped back from the podium. She looked at the trophy, then down at Holtzmann, who was unwaveringly staring at her. Seizing the trophy, Erin hurled it as hard as she could up at the lights that relentless beamed down on them, hearing something smash. She was already running to the edge of the stage, though, and leaped off of it, toward Holtzmann, as the lights collapsed and everything crashed into darkness again.


	8. Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angry ghost is never a good thing! Erin and Holtzmann come face to face with the ghost that has been causing them so much grief, and it goes exactly as well as one might imagine.

“I don’t know, Ere-Bear,” Holtzmann’s voice rose up from the darkness, which had settled so completely that, though Erin was sitting directly on top of the other woman, she could not actually make out her features. Hearing her speak made Erin jump, and she looked down in surprise. “Maybe jumping off the stage wasn’t a great idea.”

“I’m so sorry!” Erin scrambled to the side, climbing off of Holtmann and clinging to her arm, both of them getting to their knees. She did not want to lose contact, even for a second, though, as she was unsure how the Ghost was able to manipulate the space around them and did not want to give him another chance to separate them. “I thought you would catch me.”

“I did catch you,” Holtzmann said, and Erin could hear the grin in her voice, knowing it stretched ear to ear and was bright enough to show the dimples of her cheeks, “Just not with my arms. You’re welcome.” 

Erin shook her head, but she laughed despite her very best efforts not to encourage Holtzmann. She continued to grip the other woman’s arm, though Holtzmann tugged her arm away only to catch Erin’s hand in hers instead. Erin felt a little silly, but she supposed the darkness helped mask any visible embarrassment. Holtzmann had a way of making her turn bright red, though she was sure her fellow Ghostbuster was not only well aware of it, but took it as a personal challenge.

“I must admit, ladies,” the ghost’s voice drawled, the area filling with a natural, low lighting as the darkness the ghost was manifesting was pulled back. He was hovering not a foot away from them, though clearly he had been anticipating them standing. He blinked, as best a ghost with an ever shifting face and translucent eyelids could blink, and looked down. “Er. Pardon me.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Threaten away,” Erin yelped, hauling herself up to her feet In one sudden movement, yanking Holtzmann up with her. She, to Holtzmann’s surprise, did not break the hold between their hands. Erin looked expectantly at the ghost, and Holtzmann followed the gaze.

“Right, you were saying something spooky?”

“Yes. Well,” the ghost regarded them curiously for a moment, and Erin felt a shudder move down her spine. She was unsure what level of interest this creature had in them, but there was something decidedly unsettling in the way he studied them. They were toys to him, acting and reacting in ways he was either trying to predict, or manipulate them into. He thought he knew them inside and out, and Erin was beginning to wonder just how close to the truth that was. His eyes lingered on hers, and she wondered for a moment if he could read her thoughts, as well. “You two are very interesting. I had no expected either of you to triumph over my traps quite so easily. It seems your bond is stronger than I gave it credit for, and is not as entirely one sided as I predicted.” 

Erin blush, and Holtzmann tightened her grip on the other Ghostbuster’s hand. 

Holtzmann could tell that Erin was at her wit’s end. They had both been under a lot of stress since getting here, but that last little display by the ghost must have shaken Erin’s confidence. Even if Holtzmann made her impassioned plea well enough to get her off that stage, and they had broken the Ghost’s illusion, the damage was done. He reached into her mind to find her biggest insecurities, and played on them cruelly. Unlike Holtzmann herself, Erin was unable to shake them off, and even now Holtzmann was sure Erin was hearing those voices yelling at her. 

But that was why she was there. That was why she would never let go of Erin’s hand. As long as she was able to, she would protect her friend in the only ways she knew how. Yes, her methods were unconventional at best, but at worst they were still effective. She would give all of herself, no matter what she was giving up in the process, to make sure Erin got out of this. Not just alive, but whole. She tightened her hold on Erin’s hand, looking calm and collected, but feeling nothing but a tight chested terror inside.

“What’s your name, Spooky?” She asked abruptly, which caused the ghost to shoot her a withering glare. She returned his glare with a challenging, but endlessly positive, energetic stare of her own. She was grinning, one side of her mouth pulled back farther than the other, eyebrows furrowed in the purest of curiosity. 

“I see you are not interested in my expounding your good qualities,” he grunted, “though you should be honored I took a moment to spare you some compliments. I was even going to give you a hint, towards your own survival, as you have been so impressive thus far. You will not be afforded the luxury again, following this last challenge.” 

“Right. Blah blah ghost threats blah blah, but what’s your name?”

“Roland.”The ghost snapped, his words tight and his nose, though it was difficult to tell as it changed from small and feminine to thick and then to long and nefarious, wrinkling distastefully. His eyes remained glued on Holtzmann, who was seemingly undaunted by his efforts to intimidate her.

When one’s job was to deal with the dead every day, it was imperative to set up a slew of defenses for common fears. Holtzmann had long ago learned how to control her impulses, training herself not to respond to that Fight or Flight impulse that so famously foiled most people when they were face to face with true terror. She was resolved to always stand her ground, to always look her fears head on, and to work her way through them. Though her biggest source of concern, when shown an uncertain future, her mind was also her biggest asset. Sure, the ghost had shown her what it would be like for her to lose control, to become a burden to everyone around her, but it was only a trick meant to rattle her. If she let him in, let him see his smoke and mirrors had the effect he wanted, she would never stand a chance at beating him.

She had to accept that the possibility was real, but her friendships were stronger. She was not a burden, because they loved her, and she loved them. For that, she owed them everything. Whether it happened or not, she would spend the rest of this encounter fighting like she owed them for it, because she knew there was nothing but kindness and understanding waiting for her outside this library. Her confidence flowed from there, and Roland could see no doubt in her eyes.

It made him angry. It made him hate her.

“Huh, really? The last genius ghost we busted was named Rowan,” she looked at Erin, making a face. “Guess we know what part of the phone book to keep an eye on.”

“Wouldn’t it be listed by last names?”Erin asked helplessly, finding Holtzmann’s effort to alleviate the tension and building fear they both had toward this powerful enemy a much needed gift. 

“Oh yeah. Hey, Roland. What’s your last name?”

“Enough!” Roland growled, the walls shaking with his anger. They were back where they started, in the middle of the long basement under the library. It was as if they had not walked anywhere at all, the cart Holtzmann had been resting on only a few feet behind them. The stairs that were meant to lead out were still there, though the door had not returned. The ghost hovered closer, looming over Holtzmann. He was likely a foot taller than her if he were standing, but floating as he was gave him even more height over him. She looked up at him, though, with that same challenging grin as before. 

“Roland Enough is a real weird name,” she informed him. 

The ghost smiled at her, his anger abating as suddenly as it appeared. He lifted a hand, touching it to her cheek. It was ice cold, and she winced at the contact, her expression wavering only slightly. He watched her, then chuckled and thrust his other hand, which she had not been focusing on, into her chest. She felt his icy grip around her heart, each powerful finger gripping it without any physical weight. He squeezed and she screamed, the painful cold shooting through her chest like electricity, radiating out into her body and limbs, spreading at a lightning pace and consuming her every nerve ending. He pulled his hand free and she stumbled back, Erin catching her with a cry that Holtzmann could not hear. Her senses had shut down, over loaded by the sudden intrusion, though the pain was retreating quickly.

Erin held Holtzmann to her, keeping one arm around the other woman’s shoulders as If to shield her, glaring at the ghost furiously.

“That is a much more fitting, and respectful, expression,” Roland said, with a nod. “She will recover in short order. It was just a warning. Wild creatures such as this one need to be broken, and trained, before they can become useful. Though, if I were in your position, I would use her swooning to my advantage and be rid of her. There would be less guilt for you, you know, should you dispatch her before she awakens enough to blame you for it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Erin felt Holtzmann stirring, which was a relief because it was getting difficult to support her entire standing weight and she did not want to accidentally drop her. “Holtz…”

“Ah, well. It was a short chance. But I suppose I was rudely interrupted before I could explain to you the position you are now in. Such a shame. I doubt you will ever be able to discover the way out now.” The ghost floated backwards, away from them, watching Erin with a smug smile on his face. Holtzmann took a breath and opened her eyes, looking around blearily. She put her hand on Erin’s chest, pushing back and away from her to get her footing back.

“I’m alright,” she said, patting Erin’s shoulder heartily, “not the worst trip I’ve ever had. One time I overclocked a Bunsen burner in class and someone used it on some highly unstable chemicals. My unstable alterations to its heating scale resulted in a massive explosion, but the fallout was beautiful. We had to be quarantined until the effects wore off, but no one was complaining.”

She sighed, more worn and scared than she would ever admit. “Not that most of us could. I think one of the side effects was forgetting oral language for a solid three hours.”

“This one never shuts up, does she?”Roland sighed, and Holtzmann flashed him a deceptively friendly smile.

“Now you’re making it personal. I get the feeling you don’t like me.”

“Quite the contrary,” Roland lifted his hands, gathering energy into the space between his palms. “You are one of the most interesting humans I have encountered in many years. It is a shame that your friend will kill you to escape this place. The stronger, less confident one always does. I have seen it a hundred times. This is where you stop being unique, and fall into the same wicked instincts as the rest of your miserable living compatriots. The only solace I can offer is that when you die, you will become a part of me.”

“Why do you keep saying I’ll kill her?!” Erin yelled, holding her proton gun up, the engine on the pack whirring to life as she readied a charge.

“Because you have no choice, my dear.” 

The ghost split the ball of energy he had gathered, raw and sparking, into two, and closed each fist around one half. The ectoplasma seeped into his hands, making them glow brighter than the rest of his already illuminated form. While his body was a bluish color, his hands were now a sharp, dangerous looking green. He watched them calmly for a moment, noting Erin opening her mouth to argue with him, but he was far too fast for them. 

He was in front of them before Erin could pronounce the first syllable of whatever word she was leading her yelling with, and he sank one hand into each of their chests. This time, instead of freezing electricity it felt like pure fire to Holtzmann, but there was no time for pain or screaming. It felt like they were being incinerated from the inside out, and the fire spread so quickly that it consumed them before either had a chance to react. Darkness crashed down, heavy and complete, and both of their bodies hit the floor without a sound beyond the thumps of dead weight falling against stone. 

Sighing, tired by the use of his power, Roland lowered himself to the floor to spare some energy from floating. He looked down at the two bodies, their eyes open but unseeing and colorless, their faces blank and pale. He smiled, finding them both to be beautiful in their own way, and he kneeled down between them. Humming, unhurried now that they had been thoroughly dealt with, he moved them one at a time.

He had them resting side by side on the floor. Erin on his left, her gear sitting in a neat pile near her head, and Holtzmann on the other side. They were on their backs, and he had them resting as comfortably as he was able, though their physical well being was not his biggest concern. His form was solid enough to drag them around, except when he willed it. He put a hand on each forehead, letting his palms and fingers sink into their heads slowly, closing his own eyes as he searched their minds. He simply needed to spark the power he had already place inside them. That done, he retreated from them, sinking into a shadow. 

Once they woke, the real fun would begin.

“Now,” he said with a smile, “for my favorite part of this play. Let us see which one of you will be returning. I hope it is you, Dr. Gilbert, for I look forward to devouring Dr. Holtzmann’s soul. But we shall see, hm?”

He laughed, though neither of his victims could hear him now. They were trapped in a battle to the death, in a world they could not escape together. The other challenges he had given them were misleading, allowing them to build this idea that they could do anything together. They would soon find that to be a miserable, cruel lie.

And he would enjoy every moment that followed.


End file.
